


Lost - Forgotten

by PapayaK



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Angst, Brainwashed, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Team
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-20
Updated: 2014-10-26
Packaged: 2018-02-21 23:03:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2485469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PapayaK/pseuds/PapayaK
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack is lost. And there are some things he's forgotten.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Title: lost - forgotten  
Author: PapayaK  
Category: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Team  
Spoilers: None that I can think of  
Summary: Jack's in trouble again

oO0Oo

Who was he?

He knew the answer to that. He was 'Uman. A filthy creature in a torn robe they used when they had no animals. Which had been a lot lately.

He actually didn't mind. It was better to be out doing something. _Anything_ was better than sitting in his cage. Even when it was hard. Even when it hurt.

He hated when they left him there for so many days and nights in a row. Alone. Nothing to do. No one to talk to. No one to annoy. Just sit. Nothing to touch but the bars of his cage.

Once he'd brought a small rock back from the field. Just to have something to hold. Touch. Feel. Fiddle with. He'd been punished. And left for many nights.

It was in the nights that he suffered his real punishment. He was tortured by the thought that he had once been something else. The dreams that plagued him were far worse than the pain from his wounds.

The worst part was that if his dreams were true, then he used to be something – some _place_ \- much better. He hated it because the thought made his existence a pain filled nightmare instead of what it was: his life.

If this was all he was- he could accept his lot. It was Expected.

They expected Acceptance.

oO0Oo

_schhlupp_

pause

"no…"

"They're not here."

"Maybe they just moved away from the gate."

_Hours_

"They're gone. They took him with them to another planet."

"We'll never find him."

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

The dreams held others. Others like him.

They'd once told him that he was alone. A mutation. Horrific: 'Uman. There were no others like him. Their medicine had seen to that. Corrected what had caused him. They only kept him alive out of pity. And they would continue keep him as long as he was useful. He cherished the story, - his name – the words- because he was so seldom spoken to. He heard their voices sometimes, speaking to each other. But not to him. Never to him.

But that was good. He was so well trained, they no longer had to explain – there was less pain when there was less explaining.

oO0Oo

"He's hurt. How can they…?"

"Emaciated"

"Drugged"

"We have to get him out of there. Now."

Hidden tears

oO0Oo

Touch. In his dreams he touched- was touched by others. It was common. Ordinary. He even dreamed –once- of a _hug_. In life he was touched only when his medicine came. It pinched and burned through him, clouding his mind, but they had to touch him to administer it.

Then they missed it. The medicine didn't come. He was sad.

He missed the contact.

They told him it was because he was becoming useless- his latest injuries had slowed him down and he wasn't recovering like he should.

Didn't matter that they had inflicted them.

He was afraid.

oO0Oo

"We have to go tonight."

"We can't."

"We have to."

"No."

"You saw! They're treating him like an animal. How can you-"

"Do you really think I don't want to?! We can't just go in and take him. You saw his condition. They won't even try to stop us. They'd rather just kill him."

"Take consolation in the fact that he will be drugged no longer."

TBC

 


	3. Chapter 3

As if in response to his sadness, his dreams were so much more vivid that night. He could see faces. Faces like his only different. A younger one. A darker one. A prettier one. A bald one.

They seemed so real. Felt so real. He was about to hear their voices when he was prodded awake.

Time for work.

He was to work only a short time that day– and then he was punished – badly. So badly he couldn't continue his work. It frightened him to be so weak. So useless.  
One of their children had wandered too close to the road. He alone saw. He alone dove to pull her to safety. Touching was punished.

But it was worth it.

His only thought after that hard, heavy and painful day was that his medicine would come that night. That someone would touch him.

But they didn't. It didn't.

They were going to let him die.

Then the dreams came with a vengeance: with voices, and touch, and feelings. Names. Carter. Telling him she wouldn't leave. Daniel saying, 'back-up.'

Then pain.

Burning

Searing

Why did his medicine come in his dream? Without touch?

Why didn't he wake up?

Teal'c covering the kids as they dove for the gate. Following them. The gate snapped shut.

His eyes snapped open. Panting. In pain. - His wounds had opened and bled as he'd tossed and turned.

It seemed so real. Was it real?

Could it be he was more than this?

Should he be fighting this?

He couldn't bear the thought. He was so weak.

No. He was 'Uman. Nothing more.

The sun was up. He was already awake. They wouldn't have to hurt him. He prepared himself for work. Binding his wounds as best he could.

oO0Oo

"All is in readiness."

"We go at dark."

"Finally!"

"We must be prepared. He may not know us."

"He may not be able to move."

"We'll get him home."

 


	4. Chapter 4

oO0Oo

Cage clanged shut. No medicine. He was dying. They were letting him.

He curled up in the back corner.

Prayed he wouldn't dream.

"Sir."

A whisper.

He must have dozed off. He roused himself. If only he could stay awake, then he wouldn't dream. Of a life he could never have.

"Sir."

"Jack."

More whispers in the dark.

But he was awake.

His head hurt.

"O'Neill!"

Teal'c?

"T?" he croaked. Surprised at the sound of his own unused voice.

And then they were there. The faces from his dream. Carter, Daniel, Teal'c

And he remembered vaguely.

Remembered his friends.

His job.

His name.

His life.

No!

They were opening the cage. Touching him. Holding him. Helping him.

Gentle- careful.

Talking to him.

To him.

He fought them. This wasn't right. Not right for 'Uman.

It had been so long.

"Sir, please. You've been drugged."

Hands on his shoulders. "O'Neill. You must remember."

"Quiet."

Danger.

"Come with us." Those eyes, "Please."

Kind eyes. Loving eyes. Pained eyes.

He put out a hand to her.

She touched him.

And then they were out in the woods, moving fast.

Hands never left him, helping him along, lifting him when he fell.

The pain didn't matter.

The glow of the 'gate ahead.

They helped him sit to the side of the gate as Daniel went to dial.

Teal'c standing watch.

Concerned faces.

He smiled, splitting his lip. He touched the wetness. Hadn't smiled in weeks. Forgot how.

Again he put one hand out to her. She helped him regain his feet as the gate opened.

Afraid to meet her eyes, "Car-ter?"

Smile, "Yes, Sir."

He pulled her to him, held her, buried his face in her neck.

She hugged him back.

Held him.

He wasn't ' _Uman_. He was human – He was Colonel Jack O'Neill. And he was going home.

The End

 

**Author's Note:**

> Reviews are Awesome. So are Reviewers.


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